Today I am grateful for the joy of a blank page. It's empty. Just sitting there waiting to be filled, to be romanced, to be ruined. I get this lifting in my chest when I see it—like everything is possible. Anything I've ever accomplished in my life began here. It takes courage to fill it. It takes courage to create a new combination of words or lines or gradients and to decide if it's good or not. I am joyful in the process, though. And I want to remember that right now so I can reread this when the fear sneaks in and poops on stuff. xo.